Risk and Reward

Risk and Reward is a prequel to another story. Check out Raising the Stakes here!

It should have been a good day. Sammy had been able to secure the promotion that was up for grabs. He was young for the role. Possibly the youngest person to land it in the history of the company. That meant that his pay had taken a pretty significant bump and was set to increase further once he had held the position long enough. 

Despite this though, Sammy couldn’t quite bring himself to be happy. Far from celebrating, his reward for a job well done was to now be stuck late in the office. He had been thrown right into the deep end and was now sifting through the mess of paperwork - both digital and physical - that his predecessor had left behind when he abruptly left the company with little warning.

While he would have liked to be at his local tavern, celebrating with a handful of good friends, Sammy was instead trying to make sense of development plans, real-estate portfolios and assorted stacks of legalese.

That was how the company worked. At least, the part of it he was now a part of. Large scale development. Renting out tiny apartments at exorbitant prices. Sammy was lucky to have the job, it was staving off his becoming a victim of the very sort of business he worked for. But, if he thought about it, he couldn’t help but feel like his job was to help bully the little guy - to victimise the very same people he wished he was out drinking with. In some ways, it was to make it easier to do that.

It should have been a good day. Instead, Sammy was being choked progressively harder by a claustrophobic sense of guilt. He could tell himself that he wasn’t to blame, he was just trying to keep himself alive and afloat the same as anyone else. He even tried to tell himself as much. But whatever small part he played, he was still one of the cells in the gigantic, all-consuming monster that was gentrification. 

Sammy groaned, stretching as he did so. He was tempted to look at the time on his phone but he didn’t think that was going to improve his mood any. Instead, he left it on his desk so he couldn’t be tempted and went to walk around the building for a bit. He would simply try to console himself that however long he was there was going to translate to a hefty bit of overtime pay.

Thinking about how he was going to profit from his contributions was not at all helpful, as it turned out. He started his walk feeling more bitter than he had while he was at his desk. He knew wasn’t doing himself any favours by being miserable. He wasn’t making anything better for anyone, only worse for himself. 

Moving around always helped Sammy feel better at least. He could let his mind slow down and get lost in the simple task of ambulation, taking in the mundane environment around him like it was something much more interesting. It wasn’t every day he saw this building completely empty save for himself. It was usually bustling with people hard at work.

So intent as he was on his intentional mild dissociation, Sammy almost didn't notice the whispers. Certainly, he realised he heard voices far later than he should have. He was about to dismiss the sound as unimportant when he remembered he had only just been considering how alone he was in the building - how alone he was supposed to be. At the very least, the floor occupied by the company he worked for was definitely meant to be empty save for himself.

His curiosity was piqued. Sammy wondered who else had ended up staying so late and what they were stuck doing. He hadn’t even considered that he could be in danger. Not until he rounded the corner to where his boss’ office was and found himself face-to-face with a giant of a man and a strong-looking woman openly carrying a handgun. Both wore masks to conceal their identity.

Sammy stared at them in shock for a moment. Briefly, they stared back, the same surprise mirrored in eyes barely visible through eye holes in the fabric over their faces. They were a lot faster to shake out of their stupor.

“Shit!” The woman raised the gun to point it at Sammy.

“Don’t do anything dumb now,” the man rumbled. “We’re not looking to hurt people.”

He hadn’t said the quiet part, but the threat was implicit. The man had said “we’re not looking to hurt people”, he had not said they wouldn’t.

Sammy slowly raised his hands, finding himself weak at the knees and struggling to control his impulse to turn and run. He couldn’t trust that such a sudden movement wouldn’t just get him shot in the back.

“What’s going on out there,” another male voice came from inside the office. Sammy couldn’t see him, but he could immediately tell he was in charge.

“Company,” the woman with the gun said. “Looks like one of the desk jockeys was working overtime.”

“How did we miss that?” a second woman said from inside the room. Unlike the cool charisma of the hidden male voice, or the threatening two standing in front of Sammy, she sounded alarmed.

“Doesn’t matter,” the large man said. “He’s going to forget he saw us.”

Sammy realised belatedly that he was armed too. His weapon was holstered, although a gorilla-like hand was now hovering near the gun’s grip. That meant there were four of them. At least four of them. At least two of them were armed.

Sammy noted the information in his head almost instinctively. They said they didn’t intend to hurt him. That suggested he would be able to gather information and pass it on to the police as soon as they were out the door.

Sammy raised his arms slowly in surrender. “I’d rather not get shot. So whatever I can do to get you out of here faster, let me know.”

“Smart man,” the big guy said. His companion, the woman with the gun levelled at Sammy, continued staring at him icily. The firearm didn’t drop so much as a hair’s width.

“I don’t know what you think you’re going to find in there though,” Sammy said, already feeling like he was pushing his luck. “There isn’t any money kept on site and none of our paperwork is worth anything. It’s not like you can steal a house.”

Someone inside the office snorted derisively, then a female voice called out. “Don’t you guys do that all the time here?”

A moment later, another masked head had poked around the door to look at the unexpected intruder onto their operation. Sammy got the impression it was the same one who had spoken a moment prior. He realised a moment later that this was not the same woman who had sounded so alarmed at his presence earlier. In complete opposition, this individual seemed entirely too casual given the circumstances.

There are five of them then? Sammy mentally corrected his earlier estimate.

“I mean, I’m obviously not some moral paragon or anything,” the woman looking around the door said, “But doesn’t this company have a whole division whose job is to give out predatory loans that eventually lead to you taking possession of people’s property?”

She wasn’t wrong. That wasn’t Sammy’s department, but the company did have a financing branch. Sammy had as little to do with them as he could manage. His conscience couldn’t handle that line of work. 

“Is that what this is about?” Sammy asked.

“Not really,” the talkative one shrugged. “Just making conversation.

“Maybe stop doing that, Char?” the boss’ voice said from inside the office. 

“I thought you said not to use our names?” Char shot back. When her leader didn’t deign to respond, she continued talking to Sammy. “If you want us to get out of here quicker, maybe you could help us out. This guy’s files are a mess.

You don’t know the half of it. Sammy couldn’t help but think. It was almost alarming how personable the thief lady was. She sounded like she would be easy to talk to. He was almost thankful to her pricklier companion and the giant at the door for keeping his head in the right mindset for his situation.

“Really?” the big guy said.

“Why not?” Char said. “It’s not like they’re not going to figure out what we took eventually anyway.

Even the woman with the gun pointed at Sammy did a double take at that. She and the other guard both looked at each other over the top of Char’s head.

“She has a point,” the big man said after a moment of deliberation. “He’s here now, might as well make use of him.

“Anything to get you out of here,” Sammy reiterated.

There was a sigh from within the office before the man in charge said reluctantly “Fine. Bring him in.”

The gun-toting woman gestured with her weapon and Sammy hurried to oblige, finally letting his hands drop down.

Char moved aside so Sammy could enter. Two other men were inside the office, as well as the woman he had first heard talking. That meant that the crew of thieves were six in total, not five like he thought. One of the men was sitting at the desk, going through the computer. The others in the room - save Char who was now standing behind Sammy as his babysitter - were going through filing cabinets and shelves.

“What am I looking for?” Sammy asked.

It was the one at the computer who answered, revealing himself to be the one who seemed to be in charge. “The company doesn’t just take houses. Your boss will confiscate anything of value he can get his hands on. That stuff is then confiscated and sold.”

“Right.” Sammy knew this already. That was standard practice for when people couldn’t pay off their loans at pretty much any company that lent out money.

“We’re trying to find where the particularly valuable stuff is being kept. We can take it and sell it at auction. The people who default on their loans don’t have much by the time you’re done with them, but things like cars and wedding rings are still typically pretty valuable. We’re essentially doing the same thing your boss was up to. We had surprisingly little luck in that department’s files, so now we’re here.”

“If you’re thinking about telling the police about what we’re doing here, you should probably consider that giving us this information might cost you your job. Your boss might even put a bad word in and then you can say goodbye to your industry in general,” Char chimed in cheerily.

“That’s a lot of faith to put into the assumption I like my job.” Sammy regretted saying it the moment he did. He could practically feel the woman with the gun turning back through the doorway behind him and taking aim.

What kind of idiot basically tells the armed criminals that he might double cross them? Sammy mentally berated himself.

Thankfully, nobody shot Sammy in the back. Char didn’t even seem to notice.

The man at the computer was eyeing Sammy with suspicion, but he still moved aside and pulled Sammy down into the seat in his place.

Reluctantly, Sammy set to work. He was coming to the realisation that he could still be shot and disposed of once they were done with their task anyway. But he was electing to cling to the hope they would keep their word about not wanting to hurt anyone. At the least, he was more likely to get out of the situation alive if he helped them instead of hindered… and din’t say anything else stupid.

So it was that he started sifting through spreadsheets and copies of various forms and court orders. He was somewhat used to his boss’ lack of organisational skills, but it still took him some time to find what he was looking for: a long list of people the company had screwed out of valuable and precious possessions.

Char continued talking to him in a casual tone. “Okay. Well if you hate your job, do it to screw your boss over then.”

“What?” What she had said didn’t fully compute with him.

“You said we were trusting you to not tell your boss out of love for your job or something and that we shouldn’t assume you like your job. That implies you don’t love your job.”

“I don’t really,” Sammy said, still looking through the list. He was getting drawn in by Char’s nonchalant demeanour again. “It pays the bills well enough. But it’s not exactly emotionally fulfilling.”

“Right!” Char said, Sammy clearly proving a point in her mind. “Then do it to fuck them over. You don’t like them? Then don’t tell them what we were looking for. Don’t tell them you helped. The cameras are done so there’s no proof you ever helped. We can even swap the keyboard out or wipe it for prints. Right?”

Char looked around, eliciting shrugs from other members of the group.

“She has a point,” the big guy said. 

She does. Sammy realised, shocking himself. He had just been sitting there earlier, thinking of the evils of his company and how guilty his complicity made him feel. He could let these people get away with it. He’d essentially be an accomplice, another safety net for the criminals. But he would get to hurt the company doing so much damage to ordinary people. 

Sammy was surprised to find how enticing the idea was. But, hurting his boss and the company wasn’t going to help all those victims. It wouldn’t help his drinking buddies who were struggling with rent or mortgages. It would just be spite.

Sammy looked at the long list of victims in front of him. Then, he had a moment of epiphany.

“You really do have a point,” Sammy said. “But, if I’m going to help you, I want something out of it.

“You’re not in a position to bargain,” the man who had yet to speak said. Sammy was surprised to hear he had a distinctly eastern-European accent.

“Sorry,” the boss said. “But we’re not cutting deals. Just do what you’re told and everyone gets out of this just fine.”

“You are cutting deals,” Sammy said. “You cut a deal just by enlisting my help to begin with. And, if you’re smart, you’ll take a deal that’s in your favour.”

“Now this is getting interesting!” Char exclaimed.

Sammy noted the big guy shaking his head, but looking relaxed. He didn’t seem to be preparing to pounce. Even the gun-woman, who was now peering into the office, wasn't acting any more aggressive.

The group’s boss rubbed his head through his mask and sighed, much like Char had made him do earlier. “Start talking.”

“Right now, I can help you access things you couldn’t. I know passwords, usernames and account numbers you don’t. I know where things are being stored. I don’t really know how all this crime stuff works, but I’m willing to bet you can do something with all that.”

Several eyes all turned to the boss man.

“We might. So what’s in it for you then?”

“It just so happens I do hate my boss and this company,” Sammy said. “I want an equal cut. I get the same as the rest of you. I can distribute that back to some of the people who got screwed by our loans or donate it to a charity or something. Just help me not get caught and I’ll do the same for you.”

Char and the big man both laughed. The remainder of the crew looked at each other nervously until their leader spoke up.

“Okay,” he said. “Fine. But make it quick. I don’t like how long this is taking us.”

Maybe today is a good day after all. Sammy smirked.